


what you wished for

by Elisye



Series: outside of the golden land [3]
Category: Clockwork (Webcomic)
Genre: Gen, mage!Christian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-08
Updated: 2015-11-08
Packaged: 2018-04-30 15:42:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5169299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elisye/pseuds/Elisye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just before the ship departs, Christian pulls his cousin aside for a quick talk, and a peaceful walk along the empty docks.</p><p>—if he didn't know any better, he'd think this was a good scenario for an assassination already.</p>
            </blockquote>





	what you wished for

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't contributed to the CW fandom in a while lmao

.

The morning sun is brilliant to watch.

Christian says as much - he chirps it out, hands snug in the pockets of his lab coat, a breath sipping past his lips. The weather is nice today - it isn't summery enough to be too unbearable for coats, but isn't as cold as the morning is at the peak of spring, with pollen allergies and cold dew sprinkled into the breeze.

Alexander doesn't seem to share the sentiment, but he agrees, nonetheless. What a nice day it is.

A good day to depart on. Hopeful. With promise.

A few cynical heads would say that there wasn't any progress to justify this nice blue sky, with a happy sun rising up in the distance - but someone could easily respond with the definition of hope. Today's a good day, a very good day! Because we still have that tiny hope to mend our issues, now and tomorrow onwards.

Christian ends up grinning at the silent thought - he's not sure what's actually funny about it, but something in him is laughing aloud, in a cold corner - and turns to the ambassador, patting him on the shoulder out of habit. Predictably, Alexander stiffens, holding back a grimace only halfway through, shooting an unpleasant message through his eyes alone. Being the happy-go-luckier one of the two, the scientist just grins and grins, his hand still settling back into his pockets without another sound more.

After all, he will respect what others want. That's how things go in this world.

Do what needs to be done. Keep your head low, and don't show the spark of fire in your eyes.

Every smart person lives long enough to die from illness and old age - not the guillotine.

"You're really taking Cog along, aren't you?"

It isn't a question, as much as it sounds like one. Christian carefully measures his smile - subdued, quiet, but a smile nonetheless. Absently, for the first time in a rather long time, he wonders if someone can read it. Can see the faintest twitch in his muscles, can read through that too, finding out just how much he knows about the truth. About what he's been hiding for a good handful of years to take to his grave.

Spiders seem to crawl across his skin at the mere thought of anyone finding out. But he holds his ground, harshly bites in the insides of his cheek, and looks away. He hopes that he had perfect timing on that - a dramatic, touching gesture, fit for a melancholic novel.

"Indeed, I am." Alexander answers in his usual clipped tone. If he caught anything, he doesn't show it one bit. How appropriate for his title. "And at this point, I doubt you can change my mind on it."

"Hah!" That came out more scornful than intended, but that's _fine_ — "I know I can't. You've always been pretty stubborn on getting what you want."

"Put that way, you make me sound rather selfish."

"I can't disagree on that either."

Christian takes a step forward, fingers fidgeting, soon curling into tensed fists - trying to find some comfort as the tip of his shoe taps the metal edges of the docking grounds. The breeze decides to pick up a bit at this point, carelessly messing up a few stray strands of his hair as he looks all the way down and up. Everything is so far away like this... "Alex—for Cog, Mercia is home. You're ripping a kid away from his home."

The blond doesn't say anything, for what seems like a moment stretched into five minutes - into 300 seconds minimum, too long in that number, but ultimately very short. "He has the whole morning to say his goodbyes and make arrangements. It might seem rather rushed to you, but he still has a small opportunity."

"That's not what I'm getting at here—"

"Then what?" The man almost drawls the words out, as if already bored with this entire exchange. "You know that you will not be able to change my mind. What else could you be referring to but your own sentimental opinion regarding him?" A pause - as Alexander blinks, an eye drawn to the horizon, where Arcadia sits somewhere. "I've heard the entire story, dear cousin - you are his acting guardian, in the place of his deceased family. I can easily see why you would be hesitant nonetheless about this."

"I'm more than just _hesitant_ , Alex." That's the most honest thing he's admitted about the whole scenario, really.

"Afraid for his safety, then?" He raises his eyebrows, not in the surprised sense, but more in the questioning sense - when it came to the Leveque name, there is nothing to fear. Power, prestige, and ability is attached to it. A house of such remarkable history doesn't have a single, glaring flaw worth being uncertain over. "Even with the serial murders taking place in Arcadia, I can perfectly guarantee his protection. And he will be residing within Arcadia's fortress as well - even you would know how difficult it is to slip past its security."

Christian opens his mouth to try and argue back, to debate and to discuss, but nothing really comes out. He thinks on it - there isn't anything else to say. Nothing safe to say, at least. And while the scientist can't quite agree that just staying in a fortress will protect the boy, he doesn't see any reasonable alternatives for his cousin to think on about. For a person who seems to have conjured this entire plan just yesterday afternoon itself, Alexander already had most of the finer details planned out. It's... just a little bit unnerving to witness such precision, in all honesty.

So ultimately, it concludes like this - a long sigh, and, "I hope you keep your word, really."

"You shouldn't doubt it," he replies, soon turning around to head back in, his dark cloak fluttering with the dying winds. "He will return alive to you and the prince."

_... Will he?_

His nails print themselves deeply into his palms; Christian might be overthinking things, as how he used to, but something in those words make the spiders come back, to crawl up his spine without inhibition.

Magic doesn't keep its users alive, once noticed.

And for Cog, who's at that precocious stage where the fire in his eyes just won't go out - who doesn't know how to hide that spark in his blood with effortless lies, with perfect alibis and masquerades—

Christian would really, really like to believe in those words. But he's hesitant and afraid and as everyone says, a little too motherly for his own good. 

Sometimes, he hates the reason he acts as much, really.

.


End file.
